


I Think It's Gonna Rain

by xephyr



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Implied Relationships, M/M, One Shot, Pre-Canon, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 09:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6901000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xephyr/pseuds/xephyr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"After Morrison's promotion to strike commander, his relationship with Reyes changed. The tension became more pronounced as time went on. I tried to mend things. We all did. Sometimes when the closest bonds break, all you can do is pray you stay out of the cross fire." - Angela "Mercy" Zeigler</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Think It's Gonna Rain

The easy camaraderie Morrison had with Reyes had almost vanished without a trace. Ever since the night he was given the title of Commander by the United Nations, he had been distant. Cold, even, with hardly a glance in Morrison’s direction since the honor had been bestowed upon him.  
  


Everyone in his team had congratulated him. One of his-- because they  _ were _ his now, in a way-- snipers had brought out the good bottle of brandy to celebrate, a few others had arranged a potluck amongst themselves, and Torbjörn had even offered to buy him a girl for the night, which he had obviously declined. When the offer was made, he had looked up at Reyes laughing all the way, hoping that would bring some sort of reaction out of him. Grim faced, Reyes stared ahead. It didn’t.  
  


Weeks had passed, and nothing improved between them. While Reyes had yet to be outwardly antagonistic towards him, he made no effort to hide his thinly-veiled disgust for the other man. Meals they typically ate together among other members of their team in the officer’s mess hall no longer happened, and Morrison tried to ignore the empty seat that Reyes usually occupied. Angela Zeigler watched him with concern evident on her face with piercing eyes that seemed to see through him, and Morrison could only shrug, feigning indifference as he chewed on a hunk of garlic bread.  
  


The shift in their relationship was obvious to everyone and he wished it wasn’t.  
  


“I confronted him this morning, Commander.” Zeigler had told him one evening as he took a smoke break in solitude on one of the headquarters balconies, overlooking the horizon as the sun began to set. He didn’t turn to face her and he didn’t ask who she was referring to. It was obvious.  
  


There were a lot of things he should say. He should be angry that Zeigler had gotten herself involved in Morrison’s personal matters and he should reprimand her for it, but he knew she only had the organization’s best interests in mind. Two top officers not working together affected every last member of the team, and they all knew it.  
  


Instead, he found himself asking, “What did he say?”  
  


The silence that followed was telling. After the moment’s pause, she spoke again. “You need to talk to him.” Morrison could feel her eyes on him, but still didn’t turn to face her. He exhaled, watching as the smoke that spilled from his lips drifted into the sky, and heard her footsteps as she retreated to leave him in silence.  
  


He watched the clouds that had began to roll in from the mountainside. A storm was coming.  
  


That night as he laid restlessly in his bunk, sleep refusing to come, he thought about the day the United Nations had named him as the first commander of Overwatch. Reyes had stood by his side before the ceremony commenced and shifted on his feet apprehensively. Reyes had been a lot of things, but nervous was never one of them.  
  


Morrison clapped a hand onto one of his broad shoulders. “Relax, man,” He chuckled at him as they watched the leaders of the United Nations file in one by one.  
  


Gabriel had looked at him, then, his dark brown eyes sparkling under his strong thick brows. It would be the last time Reyes would look at him like that, though Morrison could never have known that at the time. “I mean, it’s just that… This is it. This is what I’ve-- what we’ve been waiting for.” He shook his head softly, turning his gaze back out to the stage as the members of the United Nations took their designated seats. “We kicked ass in that war, Jack. We were great.”  
  


Morrison grinned at his friend’s profile, letting his hand fall to his side. “Yeah, we were.”  
  


Everything after that had been a blur. A re-telling of the events that transpired during the Omnic something that praised Overwatch and its incredible group of soldiers who had made it all happen. It felt good, somehow, to hear it all spoken aloud even though they had all been there.  
  


Then, it had happened.  
  


Through the speakers the voice of Under-Secretary-General, Gabrielle Adawe, rang clear. “Even I had my doubts about whether Overwatch would succeed, but Morrison never gave up hope. He didn't just meet our expectations for what Overwatch and its agents could achieve; he shattered them .” She looked at him significantly. “And because of that, we are exceptionally glad to name John Morrison as Commander of the Overwatch Organization.”  
  


Morrison had forgotten how to breathe, then. This was beyond anything he had expected. The cacophony of applause from the audience and his fellow teammates had drowned out the sound of his own heartbeat, and he looked to Reyes, the man he had trusted and loved more than anything else.  
  


Reyes wasn’t looking at him. He stared ahead, glassy eyed as his mouth hung open. It didn’t even look like he was breathing.  
  


Before Morrison could do anything, Reinhardt had come up behind him and slapped a huge hand on his shoulder, forcing him to turn around as the older man smiled at him. “You deserve this. You’ve always deserved this, sir.”  
  


“Commander, you mean,” Ana Amari intercepted as she crowded in on Morrison and Reinhardt’s space. “Commander Morrison,” She repeated with a grin, and the title felt strange to his ears. “Nice ring to it, don’t you think?”  
  


As more of his men approached, Morrison looked out to where Reyes had been standing previously.   
  


He was gone.  
  


Morrison woke early the next morning, more sluggish and tired than he had been before he fell asleep. He sat up and swung his feet off the bunk, resigning himself to an early day instead of trying to fall back asleep.  
  


After he got dressed, he made his way up the stairs to his usual smoking spot, a carton of cigarettes in his back pocket. Though he couldn’t see it, he could hear the tell-tale sound of rain falling in sheets against the building. A storm had come, after all.  
  


The last thing Morrison had expected to see when he turned the last corner was Reyes, and yet that’s precisely what he saw.  
  


For a long time, him and Reyes had shared their smoke breaks up here together and enjoyed each other’s company. Obviously, in the past few weeks, that hadn’t happened, and Morrison always found their designated area to be empty.  
  


Today, however, Reyes leaned on the railings of the balcony and puffed away on one of his signature menthols with the grey sky and rain as his backdrop.  
  


If Reyes was surprised by Morrison’s arrival, he didn’t show it as he turned to face the man. He said nothing and merely watched him with those sharp brown eyes, his intense anger almost a physical force standing on the balcony with them.  
  


There was really only so much he could take.  
  


“ _ What _ is your problem lately, Gabriel?” He demanded after a long moment’s silence, the rain pattering loudly on the roof above them.  
  


Morrison watched Reyes square his shoulders up, taking a long last drag of his cigarette in order to stay calm before he let it fall to the ground.  
  


As it was, Reyes had never been never good at staying calm.  
  


“That promotion should have been mine and everyone fucking knows it.” The other man snapped at him with a hideous snarl on his face, speaking the first words he had exchanged with him in weeks. “Why should it have ever gone to you? Look at me, Morrison. What could you possibly have that I don’t?”  
  


John searched his friend’s eyes. No, he searched Reyes’ eyes. This wasn’t his friend. This wasn’t anyone he recognized anymore. This was a man consumed with jealousy and hatred. Reyes’ breath came fast and wild, watching Morrison with wide eyes, daring him to retort.  
  


“Something awful’s happened to you, Reyes.”  
  


The other man was upon him in a heartbeat, full of a feral and unhinged energy Morrison hadn’t seen him emit even on the battlefield. “Nothing’s happened to me,” He all but spat in his face, his fists curling in the front of the other man’s shirt as he pulled him up roughly. “Everything’s happened to you.  _ For _ you. Everything works out in your favor, and why?” he slammed him back against the wall, forcing a gasp out of the other man. “When is it my turn to get what I deserve?”  
  


After a moment of shock Morrison recovered, delivering a swift punch to the other man’s gut. If Reyes had been a normal man, the blow would more than likely have broken a rib or two, but Reyes wasn’t a normal man. Neither of them were. However, the unexpected blow made the other man stumble forward with a grunt, and Morrison easily freed himself of his grip, sliding around behind him.  
  


“This is  _ stupid _ , Gabe.” Reyes spun around at the endearment which tasted like a mockery in Morrison’s mouth. “What do you plan on getting out of this?”  
  


“You  _ know  _ it should have been me. Admit it.”  
  


Morrison watched the other man get his footing back as he thought about his answer. “No,” He said simply. “I’m the right man for the job. You aren’t.”  
  


This time he was prepared for Reyes’ aggression. He was quick enough to catch the fist that came flying at him, but what Reyes lacked in speed he made up for in brute strength. He used his position in attempt to bowl over the other man shoving him backwards across the room. Morrison had almost tripped over a crack in the floor as he stumbled backwards, but was able to recover himself with astounding grace. Reyes growled as he stalked after him.  
  


Their scuffle led them both out to an area that wasn’t protected with any sort of shade from the elements and they both focused on keeping their balance as the rain hammered down on them and the now-slippery cement ground. Morrison had managed to get a left hook in, landing squarely on Reyes’ wide jaw and splitting his lip. Reyes roared and grabbed ahold of Morrison’s broad shoulders, throwing him onto the ground with superhuman strength, making the other man cry out as he landed solidly on his elbow. From his vulnerable position on the wet cement in the rain, he looked up at his old friend. Reyes gathered his hands into tight fists, shaking.  
  


“Do you know how hard I worked for this?” Reyes asked him thickly and it was all Morrison could do to keep unwavering eye contact with him. “You don’t even have to try. I do ten times as much as you and yet everyone fucking loves you.” The rain came down heavier and Morrison had to blink through the rain falling on his face. “Why?”  
  


“Did anything we have mean anything to you, Gabe?” Morrison asked desperately, his eyes searching his face as he watched a muscle in his jaw tighten from the usage of his name. Reyes used the moment’s reprieve to wipe the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. He thought of every moment they shared together as comrades, as friends, as something closer. He thought of all the lopsided grins Reyes had given him, all the soft touches he offered that didn’t seem possible with hands as calloused as his were. How the tension between them had finally blossomed into something more after a night of drinking and easy jokes between them. How sweet it was when their lips finally met, and how easily Morrison had relaxed beneath his hands. The curses that had spilled from Gabriel’s lips in a language John didn’t understand.  
  


He looked at Gabriel, waiting for an answer.  
  


Reyes looked him dead in the eyes. “No.”  
  


The rain continued to fall.  
  


Morrison continued to watch the other man. Reyes opened his mouth to say something else but snapped it shut again with a shake of his head. He had nothing else to say.  
  


He watched as the man stalked off from where he leaned on his elbows on the ground, not feeling any sort of incentive to stand. Reyes turned a corner, and then another, and he was gone.  
  


The rain continued to fall.


End file.
